


The Kiss

by WildwingSuz



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 08:56:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3890248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildwingSuz/pseuds/WildwingSuz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when a grumpy Scully wakes up a dreaming Mulder just a bit too enthusiastically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little piece of fluff vignette; the opening scene popped into my head one day and took a good two weeks to write. Annoyed!Scully and Plotting!Mulder are always fun, then add a bit of sexual tension to the mix and it's all good.
> 
> Spoilers: Takes place the day before the X-Cops episode happens.

The Kiss  
By Suzanne L. Feld  
Rated PG

 

Goddamn it, this is the last time I miss a flight and have to sit in the damn airport for hours because of him, Scully thought as she stomped down the dim brown-and-tan hallway, her headache pulsing with each step. I've had enough—if the man can't learn to set an alarm or leave his cell where he can hear it I'm not waiting for him anymore. He can just damn well catch up with me later. Besides, this so-called X-file sounds like another snipe hunt but what the hell—a weekend in sunny Cali beats a week in cold rainy D.C.

It didn't help that she'd overslept too, hitting the snooze button on her little alarm clock-radio three times before opening bleary eyes to see that she had exactly one half-hour to shower, dress, and get over to Mulder's. Since the drive to his apartment took twenty minutes even if she caught all the lights right she was in trouble before she even got her aching head out of bed. What she really needed was him to be ready to go when she got there, hopefully on the curb with his bags in hand, but that hadn't happened and they were already running fifteen minutes late when she arrived at his building.

Drinking almost an entire bottle of wine while watching the Bogie film festival on TCM until midnight the night before a cross-country flight hadn't been a good idea, but it was too late to take back now. 

I'm not about to let him know I did that, she thought darkly as she stopped before number forty-two and slid her key into the lock without knocking. He'd never let me hear the end of it, and I need to keep the upper hand here. She knew damn well he was still sleeping with his cell off or out of earshot and his home phone ringer turned off and the volume on his answering machine all the way down. 

Inside, she spotted him right away as she closed the door behind her. It looked like he'd fallen asleep last night on the couch watching TV, dressed in yesterday's office clothes with his tie hanging loosely like a failed noose, the top two buttons of his pale blue shirt undone and sleeves rolled to the elbows. He was partly sitting up, head thrown back and snoring softly at the ceiling, sprawled across the familiar black leather with one big dark-stockinged foot on the floor and an arm along the back. The bluish glow from the TV played dimly over his long body, volume no more than a faint murmur. Feeling her banked anger spark into real flames, she stomped across the floor feeling her headache throb even more painfully. Not bothering to conceal her heavy steps she leaned over, grabbing him by the shoulders to shake him and snapping, “Mulder, I swear, this is--”

She got no further. He jerked awake, his head coming up as he stared up at her almost wildly, then his arms came around her shoulders like a living vise. He pulled her onto his chest, one hand on the back of her head, and brought her mouth to his for the most blazing open-mouthed kiss she'd ever experienced. After a split second of shock her body answered for her and she melted onto him, her tongue answering the insistent touch of his even as her arms crept around his chest to hold him closer. Each of them poured the longing, desire, and love for the other into the kiss. Untold seconds ticked by as the heart-pounding kiss went on, then almost simultaneously they realized what they were doing and Mulder let go of her as Scully jerked away, stumbling back into the coffee table and saving herself from a fall only by reaching over and catching herself on the back of the desk chair. 

They stared at each other with wide eyes for several beats, then Scully found her voice. “What the hell, Mulder?” she gasped, feeling her chest heaving as her heart pounded wildly, knees shaky and too shocked to hide her reaction from him. At least she'd forgotten about her headache for a minute or two! Abruptly she sat down in the chair as her legs refused to support her any longer. “What in the hell was that?”

“Unless I'm still dreaming, the best kiss of my life,” he said, staring back at her with blinking eyes and lips still shiny from the touch of hers. “What's the occasion, Scully?”

She glared back. “What do you mean? You kissed me!”

“I did?” his expression changed, going through several revisions before a small smile settled at the corner of his mouth. “I was dreaming that I was kissing you and then I really was,” he said, quirking an eyebrow at her. “But I was asleep and you, obviously, were awake. So who kissed who?”

“I leaned over to shake you awake and you grabbed me,” Scully said, still glaring. “You took me by surprise.”

Scrubbing both hands through his spiky hair, he sat up and then looked across the room at the TV/VCR combo. “Aren't we flying to L.A. this morning?”

She followed his eyes and leapt out of the chair as she saw the time on the VCR. Her half-shouted expletive would have done her career-Navy father proud and caused Mulder's eyebrows to nearly hit his hairline. “We're going to miss our flight if you don't get a move on and I'll be damned if I'm sitting in the airport for hours waiting for another! I'll be down in my car and am leaving in exactly five minutes whether you're with me or not!”

After she had stomped out and slammed the door behind her, he wasted no time as he knew from prior experience that she meant it. TV was snapped off, feet went into shoes, suit jacket was grabbed from the back of a kitchen chair, bags were picked up from where they sat in the foyer and he was out the door, making it to the sidewalk just as she started the car. 

After stowing his suitcase and gym bag in the trunk, he slid into the passenger seat and the car was moving even before he got the door fully closed. “Ouch! Jesus, Scully, calm down, we're not that late,” he snapped as he reached over his shoulder for the seat belt. His foot had been caught a glancing blow in the closing door and now throbbed but he wasn't about to say any more about it with the mood she was in.

“You know, Mulder, even for such a confirmed slob bachelor such as you, wearing yesterday's clothes is a bit much,” she sneered, taking a corner fast enough that he had to grab the door handle and was glad he'd gotten his seat belt on or otherwise he might have fallen against her. Just what he needed when she was already royally pissed at him—he'd have a black eye to go with his bruised foot.

“What? These aren't yesterday's clothes—I was up and ready on time, I fell back to sleep waiting for you,” he said pointedly. He leaned over and waved his hand beneath her nose, causing her to jerk back and the car swerve just a little as she glared over at him before moving her eyes back to the road. Luckily there was no oncoming traffic. “See? Shower-fresh from less than an hour ago.”

“Yeah? Then why weren't you answering your cell? I called three times to let you know I was on the way, and when you didn't answer I thought you'd overslept.”

He dug into his inside suit jacket pocket and pulled his phone out, pressing a button. As it beeped he said slowly, “It was off. I don't remember turning it off, but it was.”

She harrumphed but held her peace. Mulder was still trying to figure out exactly what had happened since he'd woke up kissing her, but could make no sense of any of it. She was clearly angry at him, but for the kiss or thinking he'd overslept? Could be either, could be both, he mused to himself. The silence in the car spun out, broken only by Scully's occasional mumbled swear under her breath at other drivers.

Left alone with his own thoughts, Mulder's mind wandered back to that morning's blistering kiss in very short order. This was nothing like their only real previous kiss, which had been a friendly peck; he didn't count the 1939-Scully kiss on the Queen Anne although he was as sure as he could be that it had really happened. No, this had been an out-and-out passionate lover's kiss, the kind that in movies usually preceded clothes being flung in all directions. After their sweet but brief New Year's kiss Mulder had been waiting for the right time to do it again, maybe take it a little further, but no opportunity had presented itself and he'd been biding his time. This was not how he'd seen their first real passionate kiss happening, but it had and he knew he had to find a way to fix things between them. But until he did, he knew enough to keep his mouth firmly shut and not do anything to piss her off further.

That lasted all of the forty minutes it took Scully to race them to Dulles doing her Mario Andretti impression. When he got out of the car, his foot twinged and Mulder bit his lip, knowing that this wasn't the time to mention it. But it hurt enough that he couldn't help lagging behind Scully as she almost raced through the terminal, whereas it was usually she trying to keep up with him. Though she didn't say anything, the glares and exasperated looks she kept throwing his way let him know exactly how she felt, and he was sure that if they weren't in public he'd be getting quite the tongue-lashing. 

They reached the gate just as the boarding door was being closed and though they rarely did so, both flashed badges to make it onto the plane. As usual they were in the cattle car, smashed in next to a rather grouchy-looking fat man but, at least, with a window seat which he surrendered to her without even asking. The plane was full, a crying baby right behind them and a rather loudly arguing couple a row or two in front. Mulder had forgotten to get the case file out of his carry-on before putting it in the overhead bin and reached for the airline magazine in the back pocket of the seat in front of him only to find it missing, and watched Scully grab hers before he could. He'd already read the specs on the Boeing 757 on other flights and didn't bother to take the card out of the seat-slot as the crew began their emergency briefing. 

The only good thing about the flight was that the fat man with his elbow in Mulder's side was silent the whole four and a half hours, and the plane got in on time. Shortly after takeoff Scully rested her head against the window and went to sleep, leaving him trying to doze and listening to the whimpering baby, feeling his foot throb, legs cramping in the restricted space no matter how he moved them, and recalling over and over what her lips had tasted like. 

Scully awoke feeling much better as the plane touched down at LAX despite a crick in her neck and a glowering Mulder in the seat next to her. The last traces of her not-really-a-hangover were gone and as she stretched as much as she could—the airline seats were cramped even for her small form—she decided to ease up on Mulder before he really began sulking. There was nothing worse than a grown man pouting, and he really knew how to do it when he got going. 

But he didn't respond to any of her attempts at conversion as they made their way out of the crowded airport and to the rental counter, and she gave up as he drove towards the city. But she gradually became aware that he was occasionally wincing and after another mile or two, realized that it was whenever he moved his foot between the brake and the gas. “Mulder, are you all right?” she finally asked. “Is something wrong with your leg?”

He sighed. “Not my leg, my foot. It got caught in the car door when you took off so suddenly this morning. It'll be fine, it's just bruised.”

Her hand was over her mouth. “Oh my God, Mulder, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize--”

He waved her off. “I said it's fine, forget about it. Now, the full moon lasts for roughly three days, say thirty-six hours, depending on--”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute. Would you rather I drove?”

“No, we're almost there and really, I'm fine. Just a little bruised.”

They fell silent for the rest of the drive. Scully was deeply regretting her little tempter tantrum this morning but knew better than to let him see it. He'd take advantage of her regret and use it to his advantage, which she wasn't about to allow. On the other hand, she really did feel bad and knew that if nothing else, she had to at least look at it.

Once in her room, she tossed her suitcase and briefcase on the bed and went to knock on Mulder's door. He answered in stocking feet sans suit jacket but with his tie still knotted and sleeves down, and after he let her in she noticed that he was limping. “Mulder, let me look at your foot, all right?” she said as she walked in with her small travel doctor's bag. 

He shrugged and pushed the door closed behind her. “If you insist,” he said, going around her to sit on the edge of the low bed and bent over to peel off his dark sock, wincing. 

She knelt in front of him, bag to one side, and winced right along with him when she saw his foot. Very gently she slid her hand under his heel and lifted the foot, turning it to check the extent of the bruising, which spread along both sides in shades of sunset brown and yellow. “Jesus, Mulder, you should have said something before this,” she murmured, very gently manipulating the bruised area. “You should go to the--”

“--hospital and get it x-rayed, I know,” he smiled down at her. “But it looks worse than it is, I suspect. It only hurts when I step down a certain way and even then it's not really bad. What do you say, doc? Spare me yet another trip to the emergency room?”

She shrugged as she gently set his foot back down on the industrial brown motel carpet and put her hands on her thighs, looking up at him with a slight frown. “I didn't feel anything broken, and it doesn't seem to need ban-da-”

Taking a deep breath as she was speaking, Mulder knew it was now or never. When she looked up at him he was leaning down, one hand reaching for her as her words stuttered to a stop. He cupped the side of her face gently and looked directly into her wide blue eyes, giving her plenty of time to stop him if she wanted to. But she just stared back at him as he tilted her head and very slowly, very deliberately leaned forward and covered her lips with his. He didn't push the kiss past the one they'd shared on New Year's Eve, keeping his lips closed on hers, then felt her mouth shift and open beneath his. Still letting her control the kiss, he felt her tongue tentatively probe his lips and answered in kind. The kiss very quickly developed into the same type of passionate one they'd shared this morning, their open mouths slanting against each other as tongues explored. But he kept a strong rein on himself and didn't touch her anywhere else even though he wanted to stand up and crush her against him. 

Finally he had to end the kiss, see her face. It was one of the hardest things he ever found himself doing, letting go of her and sitting back, feeling a smile quirk the corner of his mouth. “No question about who kissed who this time, is there?” 

She smiled back, eyes meeting his with no hesitation or embarrassment, her cheeks becomingly flushed, lips shiny. “No, there isn't,” she agreed softly. She stood, and to his delighted surprise put her hands on his shoulders, leaned down and kissed him. It wasn't as long as the others, but just as arousingly passionate, the way he had always imagined a kiss from her would be. He was so surprised that he didn't even think to touch her before she moved away. “Now we're even,” she smiled as she stood up, giving his right shoulder a squeeze before leaning down to grab her bag. “Unless there's another part of your body that you need me to examine, don't we have a mysterious moonlight attacker to track down?”

He was never speechless for long, but she was across the room before he found his voice this time. “Is this going to be a game of oneupmanship?”

She looked over her shoulder standing in the open doorway, one hand on the knob. He had a passing thought that he'd never seen her look more beautiful. “Only if you want it to be, Mulder.”

“I think we're well past the games stage, don't you?” He was almost holding his breath with anticipation of her answer, his eyes locked on hers from across the room.

She gazed back at him, then a smile grew on her face, showing that rarely-seen dimple in her cheek. “So we are. Then let's say... no games.”

He grinned back at her, nodding slightly. “So we'll both act like responsible, mature adults.”

“At least one of us is.” Her lips twisted into a wry smile. 

“I know you adore my boyish charm and rakish impulsiveness. Have dinner with me when we get back to D.C.?”

“It's a date, G-man.” Their eyes met, and each knew exactly what the other meant. Promises were made and kept in a heartbeat, sealed away until back on familiar ground. Now it was time for the job that had not only brought them together, but kept them firmly there. Once out of this room their professional personas went on like comfortable coats, but one day very soon they would be shed those coats and move on to the next stage of their relationship. 

Scully leaned forward and looked out the window behind the door, then added, “It's getting dark and the moon should be up soon. Speaking of dinner, can we grab a bite before heading out to look for your clawed prowler?”

“We'll stop and grab something on the way over to Willow Park,” he agreed. “Don't forget, change into something dark and casual. This thing hasn't been in seen in Beverly Hills, so your G-woman power suits will be wasted on the clientele.”

She rolled her eyes. “Anything else you want to mention that'll entice me to join you on this snipe hunt?”

“We'll see, Scully, we'll see,” he chuckled.

As the door closed he mentally rubbed his hands together, grinning widely as he removed his other sock and got up to change into jeans, no longer limping at all. Little did he know that his partner, walking the few feet to her motel room door down the hall, had an equally wide grin on her face.

 

finis


End file.
